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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26214721">In Happiness I Leapt into Your Torrents</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_deepest_blue/pseuds/in_deepest_blue'>in_deepest_blue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Filipino culture, Fluff, Food, M/M, The Philippines, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Travel, World Travel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:13:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26214721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_deepest_blue/pseuds/in_deepest_blue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale and Crowley explore Binondo, the world's oldest Chinatown. Just some fluff written for "It's More Wahoo in the Philippines," a zine centered around the theme of the Good Omens characters visiting the Philippines.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In Happiness I Leapt into Your Torrents</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was written for a Philippine-centric Good Omens zine called "It's More Wahoo in the Philippines," which I ended up being a co-mod of because one of the mods stepped down for personal reasons. We didn't sell many copies, but you can find some info about it and proof of its existence <a href="https://twitter.com/IneffableMNL/status/1202460611977760768">here</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/theophania89/status/1300378842717011969">here</a>, and <a href="https://twitter.com/IneffableMNL/status/1229984805787291648">here</a>. </p>
<p>We probably wouldn't sell another batch — the last batch was printed and sold right when the pandemic started, so it was pretty stressful just making sure everyone (especially the international buyers) got their copies. The exclusivity period is over, so... enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their first meal of the day was <em>maki mi</em> soup and soy milk at a <em>carinderia</em> (no-frills eatery)-style restaurant called Ha Yuan.</p>
<p>Aziraphale's face was one of childlike wonder as he dug into the thick, starchy brown soup with tender pork and noodles. "Crowley, you've got to try this! We'll never get to eat this elsewhere. It's a unique Chinese Filipino dish. You ask for <em>maki</em>”—he tried to pronounce it the Hokkien way, with an accent on the “ma” and the “a” sound clipped—”elsewhere in the world, and they’ll think you mean sushi.”</p>
<p>Crowley wasn’t one to eat much, but the flavorful aroma wafting in the air was hard even for him to resist. As Crowley tried the soup and gave it his seal of approval, Aziraphale beamed. “I knew you’d like it!” </p>
<p>The idea to visit the Philippines started when a visiting Filipino American friend of Anathema’s suggested vacationing at her parents’ homeland. Now the angel and the demon were in Manila, exploring Binondo, the world’s oldest Chinatown, one meal at a time.</p>
<p><a id="return1" name="return1"></a>Aziraphale had read that Binondo was the only Chinatown in the world where tea never took off.<sup>[<a href="#note1">1</a>]</sup> In the old days, it was known for producing a valuable commodity called <em>tablea</em>—cacao tablets used to make rich hot chocolate—for the Spaniards. There was no way Aziraphale would leave Binondo without getting his hands on such a unique specialty, so he and Crowley headed for La Resurreccion, the area’s long-standing and only remaining tablea factory. </p>
<p>They left the shop with a boxful and a newfound resolution on Aziraphale’s part to learn to make Filipino-style cocoa for Crowley. Still, the angel was slightly disappointed, as he’d hoped to find a cafe in Binondo that specialized in hot chocolate. </p>
<p>“Angel, I doubt workers at tablea factories back then got to enjoy the fruits of their labor,” Crowley reminded him. “Plus, restaurant owners probably wanted to stick to their area of expertise.”</p>
<p>For lunch, they feasted on chive-and-pork dumplings at Dong Bei Dumpling and even more dim sum at Wai Ying. What Binondo’s beloved restaurants lacked in ambience, they more than made up for with a tempting array of dishes, all bursting with flavor. Aziraphale was never one to judge a restaurant by its ambience, anyway. Whether it was the Ritz or a hole-in-the-wall place, he went where good food was, and he always believed that food tasted better when it was made with love and care. </p>
<p>Crowley glanced at the other diners and said conspiratorially, “Y’know, angel, nothing’s stopping us from having dim sum and cocoa at home.”</p>
<p>“I’d love to, but would that be disrespecting local cuisine?”</p>
<p>“Eh. Over here, ‘specially outside Binondo, they have shumai—they call it ‘<em>siomai</em>’—with rice, when dim sum is, traditionally, a teatime snack…” Sure enough, next to them, a boisterous group of students was wolfing down Wai Ying’s signature pork siomai with fried rice.</p>
<p><a id="return2" name="return2"></a>One of them moved his seat closer. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear. You sure know a lot,”<sup>[<a href="#note2">2</a>]</sup> he complimented Crowley. “We Filipinos don’t really have strict rules on how to enjoy our food. Our cuisine’s a melting pot of influences, and there’s nothing wrong with a little experimentation. So long as you’re not bastardizing our dishes, or passing off your way as superior—and I can’t see how pairing cocoa with dim sum is doing any of those—you’re good.”</p>
<p>“That’s very kind of you to say. Please don’t worry; I have nothing but respect for food and local customs. Thank you, er....” Aziraphale shook the young man’s hand.</p>
<p>“Gilbert. My pleasure! I love taking friends to my home turf and meeting new people, so if you like, I could tour you around sometime.”</p>
<p>“Lovely to meet you, Gilbert. I’m Ezra, and this is Anthony. Perhaps we’ll take you up on your offer tomorrow.” After exchanging contact details and small talk, Gilbert returned to his group.</p>
<p>Crowley smothered a dumpling with chili sauce. “That settles it. You make the cocoa; I’ll order dumplings.”</p>
<p>“Sounds like a plan.” Aziraphale rubbed his hands in glee. “I could also learn to make dumplings. Let’s invite Warlock and our friends in Tadfield!”</p>
<p>“Only if you let me help. Can’t let my angel do all the work.”</p>
<p><a id="return3" name="return3"></a>Done with lunch, the pair bought more souvenirs—this time the popular Eng Bee Tin deli’s best-seller, a flaky pastry called <em>hopia</em>. Passing by a street vendor, they tried <i>taho</i>, a sweet snack made of silken tofu, brown sugar syrup, and tapioca pearls.<sup>[<a href="#note3">3</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="return4" name="return4"></a>Another food-related detour<sup>[<a href="#note4">4</a>]</sup> later, they reached the Plaza San Lorenzo Ruiz square, from which they admired the facade of the iconic Binondo Church. Aziraphale and Crowley both wondered if the co-existence of Catholicism and Buddhism in Binondo meant that Crowley could enter the church unscathed, but decided not to risk it.</p>
<p>“Clever of ‘em to hedge their bets!” Crowley quipped. “You should see that one shrine here. It’s got a cross, but people leave incense as offerings.” He shifted to an overdramatic tone, as if he’d just survived a harrowing ordeal. “I touched it… <em> and lived to tell the tale!!! </em>”</p>
<p>Aziraphale laughed heartily. “You did not, you crazy old devil!”</p>
<p>Their last stop was Lucky Chinatown Mall, a stark contrast to Binondo’s old-school haunts. At the festively decorated atrium, a perky lady approached them. “Would you like to write your wishes on a lantern? It’s for the Mid-Autumn Festival!”</p>
<p>Crowley shrugged. “Sure.” Sharing a small round lantern, he and Aziraphale scrawled: <em> To the world, and to us. </em> </p>
<p>They bought mooncakes and strolled around the mall, Aziraphale scanning each floor and making a mental note to try Ling Nam’s congee (rice porridge), Lord Stow’s egg tarts, and Shi Lin’s dim sum the next day. Crowley saw a cafe selling a gallon of milk tea and suggested gifting one to the Them.</p>
<p>At the mall’s Cafe Mary Grace, Aziraphale finally got his wish to try Filipino-style hot chocolate. Mary Grace wasn’t the homegrown Binondo cafe that he’d envisioned, but Aziraphale had no reason to complain. Thick and frothy, the hot chocolate was <em> divine </em> . The <em>ensaymada, </em>a sweet roll made with butter and cheese, that complemented it was just as superb—deserving of its reputation as one of Manila’s best.</p>
<p>“Look, Crowley,” Aziraphale giggled. “The menu says the ensaymada’s topped with Eden cheese…our cheese! No wonder this tastes like a blessing.” He let Crowley take a bite. </p>
<p>Crowley rolled his eyes and tried to hide a smile. How could one angel be so effortlessly adorable? “Getting a bit too cheesy now, aren’t we?” </p>
<p><a id="return5" name="return5"></a>They looked around some more, passing by a tunnel of lanterns on the second floor. Mesmerized, Aziraphale borrowed Crowley’s phone to take photos. First, it was just the lanterns, then Crowley standing in front of them (that way, it looked as if Crowley had a halo), and finally, selfies. All of Aziraphale’s shots ended up blurry,<sup>[<a href="#note5">5</a>]</sup> but Crowley ended up taking proper photos, and a passer-by offered to help out.</p>
<p>An outdoor walkway offered a view of even more lanterns: rows upon rows hanging above Lucky Chinatown Walk, illuminating the shopping complex’s bustling central square below. With Crowley’s help, an utterly fixated Aziraphale once again tried his hand at photography, before the angel sighed and figured he’d just commit the sight to memory.</p>
<p>Back at their hotel room, Aziraphale was leafing through a guidebook when Crowley snuggled up to him. “Heeeey, angel, you really don’t mind me sending those blurry pics?”</p>
<p>“Of course not, my dear. I know you’d never mock me for real.” </p>
<p>“Perfect!” Crowley took out his smartphone.</p>
<p>------</p>
<p>
  <b>The Us</b>
</p>
<p>when i take pics of my husband</p>
<p>
  <em> img1660.jpg </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> img1661.jpg </em>
</p>
<p>when he takes pics of me</p>
<p>
  <em> img1662.jpg </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> img1663.jpg </em>
</p>
<p><em> Wensleydale<br/>
</em>Mr. Crowley, you shouldn’t be so mean to Mr. Aziraphale!</p>
<p>lol he doesn’t mind he’s right next to me</p>
<p>he says hi and sends his love btw</p>
<p>we got a shitload of souvenirs</p>
<p><em> Anathema<br/>
</em>Language!</p>
<p>also angel says we should have dumplings and filipino cocoa next time</p>
<p>BECAUSE WE CAN</p>
<p>anyway</p>
<p>
  <em> img1664.jpg </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> img1665.jpg </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> img1666.jpg </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> img1667.jpg </em>
</p>
<p><em> Warlock<br/>
</em>i love u both but can u not spam the gc with couple pics</p>
<p><em> Pepper<br/>
</em>We get it, you two are relationship goals</p>
<p><em> Brian<br/>
</em>have you guys done the cliched instagram pose?</p>
<p><em> Adam<br/>
</em>Don’t forget to get something for Dog</p>
<p>Video chat when you guys have time! &lt;3</p>
<p>------</p>
<p>The angel gushed, “The stories we’ll tell them when we’re home!”</p>
<p>“We gotta show your pics, too,” Crowley grinned impishly. “See, this is why I never delete them. Nothing like making fun of my technologically challenged husband.”</p>
<p><a id="return6" name="return6"></a>Aziraphale shook his head in mock exasperation. He thought back to the time he’d overheard a drunk Crowley gushing to Newt and Anathema about how he had an entire album devoted to his husband’s endearing attempts at smartphone photography.<sup>[<a href="#note6">6</a>]</sup></p>
<p>Crowley scrolled through the day’s photos. “Oh, I like this one!” It was a photo of the lanterns above Lucky Chinatown Walk. “You somehow made the lanterns look like stars.”</p>
<p>“Now you’re just messing with me, dear,” Aziraphale huffed.</p>
<p>“I mean it! See for yourself!”</p>
<p>Aziraphale furrowed his brows, as if intensely studying the photo. “Well, I’ll be…!”</p>
<p>“Will you look at that? My angel’s discovered a knack for photography.”</p>
<p>“Flatterer.” A blush crept slowly across Aziraphale’s face, and he started twiddling his fingers. “Speaking of stars… o-oh, sorry, I know this is a touchy topic for you, so I’ll stop if it bothers you.”</p>
<p>Crowley ruffled Aziraphale’s curls. “Angel, I’m the one who brought up the stars in the first place. Go on.”</p>
<p>The hesitation gradually dissipated, as Aziraphale reminded himself that of course Crowley would always give him a penny for his thoughts.  “This might sound strange, but I wonder if that photo came to be because I thought of those lanterns as your stars, given new form. Humans think of the stars as guiding lights, so it must be reassuring to have them close by… or to send them up to the sky, bearing everyone’s hopes and dreams.”</p>
<p>Crowley resisted the urge to put his shades on. Even when Aziraphale wasn’t calling him mushy four-letter words, he had the uncanny ability to make the demon feel vulnerable.</p>
<p>"Oh, Crowley, isn’t it sweet how your stars have inspired and fascinated countless humans? They may not know who made them, but their—and of course, my—love for your masterpiece is something that Heaven can never take away from you.” </p>
<p>Punctuating Aziraphale’s monologue with a “ngk,” Crowley tried to play it cool. “Careful, angel; you might just make me discorporate.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale squeezed his hand. Crowley continued, “Next time there’s a sky lantern festival somewhere, let’s have a picnic in space. Watch the lanterns from up there, far from the crowds, yeah?”</p>
<p>“That’s fantastic, dear! But for now, let’s rest up. We’ve got another day to eat our way through Binondo. I’ve heard great things about Country Chicken.”</p>
<p>Crowley laughed as both of them made their way to the bed. “Whoever called Binondo a great big wok wasn’t kidding. ‘Night, angel.”</p>
<p>“Sweet dreams, love.” Aziraphale curled up next to his darling. So this was what happiness was like, he mused. Now that they no longer had to hold back, the bliss he and Crowley shared was a shooting star blazing through the night sky, landing on this earth not to shrivel up and die in some graveyard for dead stars, but to be reborn over and over again.</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><a id="note1" name="note1"></a><sup>1</sup> It’s not that tea isn’t served at all in Binondo—just that you’d be hard-pressed to find a tea specialty shop. Restaurants that call themselves “tea houses” are known for dim sum, not tea.<sup>[<a href="#return1">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note2" name="note2"></a><sup>2</sup> Of course Crowley would know. He’d popped in and out of Manila in the late ‘90s as part of the Arrangement.<br/>
<br/>
On paper (and as he told Aziraphale), Crowley was in Binondo, corrupting Chinese Filipino youths. “You could practically sense the weight of familial expectations hanging heavy in the air,” he explained. “Lots of low-hanging fruit, ripe for the picking. All I had to do was push them towards the path of hedonism.”<br/>
<br/>
<i>You mean you nudged them to follow their heart’s desire</i>, Aziraphale wanted to say, but he simply smiled and nodded. “Ah yes, ever the wily demon, you.”<br/>
<br/>
Last Aziraphale checked, although some of Crowley’s temptees’ families didn’t react in the best way, they all eventually came around, and everyone was doing fine.
<sup>[<a href="#return2">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note3" name="note3"></a><sup>3</sup> Crowley quite liked taho. Later on, he’d describe it to the Them as “like pudding, but drinkable… a pudding-milk tea hybrid.” The Them thought it was “wicked” and said they’d love to try it sometime.<sup>[<a href="#return3">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note4" name="note4"></a><sup>4</sup> A very intrigued Aziraphale spotted a shop called New Po Heng Lumpia, and convinced Crowley to try the house specialty, fresh vegetable <i>lumpia</i> (spring roll) drizzled with peanut sauce.<sup>[<a href="#return4">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note5" name="note5"></a><sup>5</sup> Crowley taking the photos would’ve saved both him and Aziraphale the time and trouble, but Aziraphale, who had started to take a slight interest in photography, insisted on doing so himself. (The angel had figured that he might as well start with smartphone photography, as he’d heard that that was “easy.”)<sup>[<a href="#return5">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note6" name="note6"></a><sup>6</sup> Aziraphale could confirm that said album existed. He’d snuck a glance, once, while Crowley was sorting photos on his phone.<sup>[<a href="#return6">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title taken from <a href="https://beanielei.blogspot.com">Beanie Lei’s</a> <a href="https://medium.com/@beanielei/my-translation-of-yellow-by-katherine-ho-crazy-rich-asians-afc8009255c7">translation</a> of Zheng Jun’s/Katherine Ho’s “Meteors” (the Chinese cover of Coldplay’s “Yellow,” used in <i>Crazy Rich Asians</i>) and used with Beanie Lei's permission. Please note that Beanie Lei is not involved in the writing of this fic, and has not received payment from this zine or anyone involved with it for allowing her work to be reprinted in this fic and zine.</p>
<p>Also, I am not affiliated with any of the brands and restaurants mentioned in this fic, but they all exist!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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